“Thanks for coming with me,” I say after a while.
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have missed this. I love being here with you and your friends. Yourrealfriends,” he adds, and we share a smile. “I will need to head off to the bar soon, though.”
“I know.” I pout and he lowers his mouth, pressing it to mine. He tastes like wine and sex, and it takes all my strength not to push him down onto Alex and Michael’s sofa and ride him like a stallion.
“I’ll come back to your place after? Or”—an apprehensive laugh slips from him—“were you hoping I’d give your key back?”
“Of course not. You’re keeping it.” I lean close and say in a low voice, “I want you back in my bed as soon as possible. My body is craving your touch. I need you inside me again.”
“Fuck, Cat,” he murmurs gruffly. “You can’t say shit like that to me when we’re in company.” He draws away with hazy eyes and I grin to myself. “I thought you didn’t do dirty talk?”
He’s right, that’s never been my thing. Whenever a guy has asked me to talk dirty, it’s just made me cringe. But with Myles… I want to be filthy.
I shrug. “I guess it’s different when you meet the right person.”
“The right person, huh?”
My heart skitters. I hadn’t quite meant to say that, but maybe… well, maybe he is. “Yeah,” I whisper.
He looks at me for a long moment, then his gaze drifts away and he sighs. “It kind of sucks that we live on opposite sides of town.”
“Mm,” I agree.
“You mentioned you’d thought about moving to the East Village.” He sips his wine, eyes fixed across the room. “I love it around there. Did you imagine living there… alone?”
“I did. But that was before…”
Myles finally meets my gaze. “Before us?”
I nod.
“And what about now?”
I shift my weight anxiously. The old me would be panicking at the thought of doing something so monumental as moving in with a guy I’ve only been dating for five minutes. A move like that has trust and certainty written all over it.
But I don’t want to be the old me anymore, and I don’t wanthimto think I am either.
“Now…” I touch his arm, stroking a finger over the compass in his tattoo. “I could see myself living there with someone else.”
His gaze drops to his glass as he attempts to mask his grin. But I’ve seen it, and that’s all I need to know I have nothing to be scared of.
* * *
“So how hasthe ex from hell taken the news?” I ask, sipping my wine. Alex started mixing cocktails and Myles offered to help, so now I find myself standing with Michael, watching everyone mingle.
“How do you think?” Michael rolls his eyes. “I don’t care. All I want is for Alex to be happy.”
I glance over at the kitchen, where Myles is trying to show Alex how to toss a bottle of tequila over her shoulder without dropping it. “Make sure you’re good to her. She’s really sweet, and—don’t tell her I said this—a bit naive. She’s not hardened to the ways of the world like us.”
“I know, that’s what I love about her. She’s optimistic and romantic. She lifts me up, all the time. And she’s great with Henry.” He smirks to himself. “Kind of like the mother he never had.”
I can’t help a snort. And as I watch Myles, I remember the things he told me about Amber the other night. “What’s it like, sharing custody with someone?”
Michael’s face clouds. “It’s not great. Especially when the other person makes things difficult.” He turns to contemplate me. “Why do you ask?”
“Myles…” I pause, wondering how much I should share. “Myles has a daughter.”
“Is he close with her?”
